The Name of the Game
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: "Dad's on a hunting trip," Dick says and Tim feels his stomach clench, "and he hasn't been home in a few days." [Supernatural fusion]
1. Chapter 1

**The Name of the Game  
**

**A Word**: I can't explain how this got meshed in my mind. Just let it be said that I started thinking about a What If-? where the bat boys are Winchesters, and say it all went downhill from there. This will all be drabbles. More or less in chronological order.

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"Dad's missing," Dick says and Jason groans. He curls up on the bed, stubbornly pulling one of the stiff hotel pillows over his head. "Jay. _Jay_!"

"Fuck off, dickhead," Jason snaps out when the pillow gets yanked from his hand. He's tired as fuck and needs another ten hours of sleep to recover from the last hunt. It's not every day he gets the _life_ nearly strangled out of him. "The old man's fine! He's just holed up somewhere hungover."

"No," Dick stubbornly insists. "Clark hasn't seen him and even Babs hasn't heard anything about him for a month. Nothing, Jayce. He hasn't even called her back about some jobs."

Which, alright, yeah, that's not something that's normal. Bruce Wayne is a man who defines the word 'obsessed' and is damn near anal about getting the scoop on any weird shit from Barbara's network. He might not be able to take on the insane number of cases she has, but he makes damn sure knows what's happening. Studying the cases and hunts intently, looking for a pattern. Looking for something that he _refuses_ to tell anyone else about. Even his own children.

"God, fine," Jason grits out and sits up. Wincing at the stabs of pain that go up his back from that ghost bitch's claws. The old man could go hang himself for all that Jason cares. If the secretive fuck didn't want to share with them then he could suffer for his paranoia. Dick though, Dick's always a soft spot especially for Dad and would never hear one cross word about him. "Lay it out for me."

He gets a phone to the face for his troubles. A voice message waiting for play as Dick starts to pace the small room. "He last checked in at Jericho, California."

Jason plays the message and then plays it again. "Is that-?"

"Yep," Dick says, and he's not just pacing now. He's packing. A grim light in his eyes as he packs up the few things they'd unpacked for this hunt before Jason got his ass handed to him. "EVP. Whatever Dad was hunting found him first."

"Christ, Dick," Jason dropped the phone and considered his body seriously for a moment. "I'm not going to be much help here. I need some serious down time to recover."

"I know," Dick says and he turns his back to Jason to finish packing their guns and salt rounds up. Jason can't see his face as Dick very casually says, "We'll have to pass Stanford to get there."

Jason goes a little cold and flinches. "No, Dick. No."

"Dad's _missing_-"

"And Tim's out!" Jason doesn't yell even though that's what he wants to do. What he's used to doing when the conversation turns to their youngest brother. He bites the urge back though because usually it's Dad bringing it up not Dick. "He's got a _life_, Dick. He doesn't do this crazy shit anymore. We can't just drag him out of that and make him hunt again."

"We're not!" Dick turns to protest and he looks tired, and worn beyond all reason. Like he actually knows what he's suggesting. "I wouldn't ask but," Dick slumps down on the foot of Jason's bed, "we really need the help with this, and I know you're really not up to it. Tell me you think you're up to taking on another ghost so soon and I'll skip Standford. We'll leave Tim alone to his life and find Dad on our own."

Jason wants to say yes, wants to spare Tim, because it's a reasonable request. Just one last time. But Jason knows how those stories end. He wants to say yes but he can't.

His back is messed up, he's still loopy from painkillers, and he's fairly sure that his ribs are bruised if not broken. He doubts he's up to getting out of the room by himself let alone go on a hunt. He's not about to put Dick's life at risk like that by lying either. Jason sighs and sinks back down on the bed. "No, I'm not."

Dick goes silent and they sit there for a bit. Just listening to the AC kick on. "It'll be nice to see Tim again."

"Yeah," Jason eventually admits, because it will be nice seeing the twerp after three years of no contact. "Don't think he's going to think the same though once you tell him why you're there."

"Probably not," Dick admits before getting up to finish packing. Jason closes his eyes and dozes as he listens to his older brother moving around. Thinking about the last time any of them had seen Tim. Steely eyed and stubborn as he turned his back and walked away to do what he wanted to do, and Bruce's cold silence as he made sure that Tim could never turn back. It's a memory that's sour and filled with pride all at once.

Wishing they had a better reason for seeing Tim again is pointless, but Jason does it anyway.

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	2. Chapter 2

**The Name of the Game  
**

**A Word**: Just FYI, I'm getting sucked back into Supernatural fanfics because of this story, and am fairly sure this is going to turn 'cesty-ish soon. Ah, hell, I'm lying my ass off, yeah it's going to end up JayTim.

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Tim wakes up in bed instantly alert. Darla finishes settling into her new position in bed, and Tim feels a little cold along his side. The residual heat from where she'd been pressed against him fading fast in the night. He watches her back rise and fall for a bit. Slow and even, shifting the long fall of her dark hair that still smells like the strawberry shampoo she's been buying lately. Her hair is going to be a tangle of knots in the morning and she's going to mumble and kick at him until he gets up to start making the coffee. Not emerging from the nest she will make of their blankets until Tim holds a mug of coffee just under her nose. Coaxing her out with the scent like he'd use food to get a scared cat down from a tree. Tim's lips curve up at the thought. It's a warm image to have, and one that still feels awed to know he's going to see every day for the rest of his life. A stray bit of light from the street lights glints off of the ring on Darla's finger.

Tim closes his eyes and clears his mind. Relaxing himself consciously. Tomorrow isn't a busy day for either of them, but Tim isn't planning on wasting it by sleeping the whole day through.

He's drifting off again when there's a creak. Low and short. Tim's up and out of bed before he even has time to recognize the sound as being out of place in their apartment. Darla shifts but stays asleep. Tim narrows his eyes and leaves the bedroom. Avoiding all of the creaky boards by habit. The light is stronger up front and Tim sees the front door standing open. He looks down out of habit, but the floor is undisturbed, and he's going to have to trust that the salt line he'd carefully laid under the boards is unbroken. That he's just dealing with a common break in.

Shadows flicker and Tim spins towards the living room where the light from the windows was blocked briefly. Tim goes in. Quick and silent, fists balled up and ready to attack the person who has to be to the left where the kitchen is. There's movement and Tim turns to face it. Realizing, too late, that what he saw was only a reflection off of a vase when he's attacked from behind.

Tim spins, driving his elbow back and down into a gut that isn't there. He ducks a kick aimed at his nose and gets hold of an arm. Bending the wrist back sharply as he twists to get behind his attacker. Putting him in an armlock just a swift jerk shy of breaking it.

"Heh," the huffed laugh is like a gut punch. Familiar and absolutely not something he ever thought he'd hear again. "Not bad, little brother. Just," Tim looses his grip as the man twists and flips in a way no person should ever be able to, but that's Dick all over. Tim grunts as he's slammed on the ground. A knee pressing into his chest and an arm across his throat. "Not quite good enough."

"Dick!" Tim croaks out as he sees the older man's face clearly now. Dick's grinning down at him. Like he didn't just break into the apartment and attack Tim out of the dark. Like he'd just walked up and slapped him on the shoulder to say hello.

In their family, this is actually what he's just done. Tim feels as annoyed by it as he feels annoyed by the fact that he's grinning right back up at Dick.

"Tim!" They both flinch as the light blazes on blinding them. Darla's in the door. Her eyes wide, but her fists clenched like she's ready to jump right in. "What's going on!?"

Dick's up and off Tim in an instant. Hand catching on Tim's arm to pull him up to his feet. He turns his grin on Darla and she hesitates. Clearly taken back. "Hi! I'm Dick."

"My older brother," Tim says quickly because he knows his fiancee, and knows she's going to start swinging soon if he doesn't allay her fears. Consequences be damned. "Dick Wayne. Dick, this is Darla," Tim moves to her side and Darla inserts herself against his side fluidly. Her body relaxing as she looks at Dick with curiosity now that he's obviously not a threat. "My fiancee."

Dick's eyebrows shoot up but he doesn't ask, anything. "Nice to meet you, Darla."

"You too. Tim's told me," Darla's lips turn up in a wry smile, "very little about you actually."

"AW, Timmers!" Dick staggers back. Hands coming up to cover his heart as his face turns into a tragedy mask. Darla giggles at the act or the name, and Tim can feel his lips curling despite himself. "How could you not tell your beautiful girl here about your awesomest big brother?"

"I did tell her about Jason," Tim says with a straight face just to see the way Dick's face crumbles but his eyes keep right on laughing. It's surreal, almost, and Tim's heart aches at how _easy_ this is. How good it feels to have Darla laughing into his shoulder at Dick.

Tim knows not to trust good things though.

"Why are you here?" It's confrontational as nothing else, and Darla shoots him a questioning look. He doesn't look away from Dick though, and he's rewarded when the humor folds away behind his eyes. His grin becoming something polished and fake in the span of a few seconds.

"Dad's missing," Dick says and Tim. Tim has a hard time breathing, because there's a _world_ of unspoken things in those few words. "He hasn't checked in, in a few days."

"Well," Tim swallows and tries to make his voice light. It's been five years. _Five_. He should be over this. He shouldn't be feeling like the room is closing in on him while Bruce stares him down. His ultimatum ringing in Tim's ears. "You know Dad. He's probably at the side of the road somewhere arguing with a wall to get out of his way."

Dick's face is unreadable for a few seconds. It's the look that Dick gets when he knows where to hit to really make it hurt, and is deciding if he should take it or not. "Dad's on a _hunting_ trip," Dick says and Tim feels his stomach clench, "and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Darla eases away from Tim's side. Her hand sliding down his arm to give him a reassuring squeeze before pulling completely away. Her eyes are warm and understanding when she gives Tim a smile. "Why don't I put on some coffee?"

She moves into the kitchen and Tim loves her even more in that moment. Darla has her own issues with her father, and she's always been so very understanding when Tim refused to talk about his.

"I like her," Dick says, softly enough it won't carry. When Tim turns back Dick looks like he's sorry. Regretful. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't need the help, Tim. You know that."

"What about Jason?" Tim asks. Bitter even though he knows he won't say no. Won't turn Dick away.

"Jason can't help," Dick says, and Tim feels something go cold inside of him. Fear shooting through him the way it hadn't the whole night. "No," Dick is quick to assure him. Stepping forward and reaching out to lay a hand on Tim's shoulder. "It's nothing bad. His back is messed up a bit and he needs to sleep it off. He's perfectly fine. Just not up for any heavy lifting."

A messed up back is _not_ perfectly fine or something that needs to be slept off. Tim bites back the words though. Listens to the clink of mugs from the kitchen and says, "What've we got?"

Dick's smile is slow and so grateful that Tim feels the last of his resentment fading. Dick squeezes Tim hard, shaking him a little before nodding to the kitchen. "I'll brief you in the car. We're going to Jericho, couple hundred miles south. Pack some clothes," Dick's eyes flicker over his shoulder. "We got everything else we need in the car."

"Last time, Dick," Tim says just before he goes. Dick pauses at the door and doesn't look back. Just tilts his head to the side to listen. "I'm getting _married_. This is the last time."

"No problem," Dick twist to look over his shoulder and his smile is fond still. "This is the last time."

Dick disappears into the night with that promise and Tim looks at the door before closing it. He breathes out and in. Closing his eyes and smelling coffee. He exhales harshly and turns to explain to Darla that he's going to be gone for just a few days. She'll understand. She always does. It's one fo the reasons why he fell in love with her.

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	3. Chapter 3

**The Name of the Game  
**

**A Word**: Ibid.

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"It'll only take a day or two," Tim says and he's mostly speaking to convince himself as he rolls a couple shirts up tight and wedges them into the bag. Compacting everything down as tightly as he can. Old habit from days when trunk space was limited and if something wasn't absolutely needed it got left behind. "Maybe three if the old man's being particularly stubborn."

"It's fine," Darla assures him. Again. She's sitting cross-legged on the bed and smiling fondly up at him as he paces the room. Looking for anything he might have forgot. She gets up and stops him by wrapping her arms around him. Resting her pointy chin on his chest and laughing up at him. Her breath smells like coffee and toothpaste. "Stop worrying. I'm sure your dad is fine, and you're going to have fun with your brothers. Right?"

For a given definition of fun. Still, Tim admits as he hugs Darla close, it will be nice to be with Dick and Jason again. Even if it will all end with finding Bruce. "You're right," he smiles and bends down. Slotting his lips against hers, enjoying her soft lips that part so easily for him. They kiss, slow an soft before parting with a sharp inhale of air. "You're always right," Tim tucks some of her tangled hair behind her right ear and smiles down at her. "You know I love you, right?"

"You're the sweetest dork, Tim," Darla laughs but she raises up on her toes to give him a quick peck before backing away. "And I love you too. Now get going before your brother thinks you're ditching him."

Tim smiles and turns back to his bag. Closing it with finality. If he's forgotten anything there are plenty of gas stations between here and Jericho. Darla gives him one last kiss and shuts the door behind him. The locks tumbling shut as he turns. He nearly drops his bag when he steps out into the street, still tasting coffee and chapstick, and sees _her_.

The Red Bird. The one thing he'd almost missed more than his family. Her red paint glows under the rising sun. The light running along her body in a way that emphasizes the shape that had led him to the name they all called her. Tim itches to run his hands over her. Pop the hood and check the engine. Makes sure that Jason's been able to keep up with the car without Tim there to help him.

And that thought makes Tim go cold again, because it's very clear that Dick had driven the Red Bird here and Tim knows that Jason has to be very badly off to allow that.

"Dick," Tim starts as he steps up to the popped trunk. Catching the sight of the armory kept under the false bottom before Dick flips it closed. Tim places his bag in. Carefully wedging it between the bags Dick's putting back in. "How is Jason? Really."

Dick sighs and closes the trunk carefully. Pushing until it catches instead of slamming it shut. He looks in through the back window and Tim can see bits of Jason in the back seat. "He'll be fine. He just really is tired. I wanted to leave him at a hotel, but," Dick shrugs and smiles at him, "he really wanted to see you too."

Tim smiles and moves around to get a good look. Jason's curled up uncomfortably in the back seat but looks completely relaxed. He's broader that Tim remembers. Not as skinny and Tim thinks he might actually be bigger than Dick standing now. Hard to tell with the way he's laying on his side. Hunched over in what has to be the only position that doesn't cause him pain.

Tim wants to wake him up, but Dick's right in not wanting to disturb him. If Jason's so out of it he can't help then he's really got to be hurting. Speaking of which...

"Give me the keys," Tim straightens up and looks at Dick. He holds his hand out and demands, "I'm going to drive."

Dick laughs and tosses the keys over the car. Not bothering to fight as he goes around to the passenger seat. "It's been almost _ten_ years and the two of you still don't trust my driving."

"You drive just fine, Dick," Tim lowers his voice as he slides into the Red Bird's seat. Hands curving around the steering wheel automatically. Jason doesn't stir at all when the doors shut and the engine purrs to life. Tim carefully adjusts the mirrors, feeling the burr on the rearview mirror that he'd never been able to completely sand out after an accident with a lighter. "The Red Bird is a lady though, and you can't treat her like just any car you know?"

Dick's laughter is quiet in the car as Tim pulls away. Following his simple directions and watching the apartment sink out of sight in the mirror. Tim pushes away the feeling of foreboding that seizes him. Focuses instead on the purr of the engine and the sounds of bodies shifting on leather seats. "So, what are we hunting?"

Dick stretches out next to him and begins to lay it all out for him, and Tim slips back into it all a little too easily.

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End file.
